


The Queen's Counsel

by LuxKen27



Category: Ever After (1998)
Genre: Canon Era, Gen, Missing Scene, Mother-Daughter Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4848545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxKen27/pseuds/LuxKen27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danielle seeks the queen’s counsel when it comes to the matter of settling her father’s estate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen's Counsel

**Author's Note:**

> _Author’s note_ : Written for the boldly prompt for my 2015 Summer Mini Challenge table. Further author's notes can be found [here](https://luxken27.dreamwidth.org/763859.html).
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER** : The _Ever After_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 1998 Susannah Grant/Andy Tennant/Rick Parks/Flower Films/20th Century Fox. No money is being made from the creation of this content. No copyright infringement is intended.

~*~

Danielle sighed, and shifted onto her back beneath the heavy blankets. Beside her, her husband stirred, blinking his eyes open. He frowned as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, a single candle providing the only light in the room, diffused by the canopy of their bed.

“Danielle?” he murmured, touching her face, drawing her attention. “Are you quite all right?”

Her smile was thin and watery, but hidden from his scrutiny by the shadow of their confines. “Yes,” she replied, her voice wavering at the last.

“No, you’re not,” Henry responded, pushing himself up against the pillows and looking into his wife’s eyes. “So tell me what’s wrong, and we shall endeavor to fix it.”

She looked up at him, and realized that it was of no use to lie – her melancholy was quite obviously written all over her face, and he had always been able to read her like a book. She swallowed hard as she cast about for the right way to frame her thoughts. She had no wish to hurt him, this wonderfully complex man whom she was still coming to know. He was passionate and intense, yet still fragile, a work in progress towards the person – and the king – he would one day become.

“Danielle?” he tried again. “Your silence scares me.”

She loved him, and he loved her – but would her honesty only serve to drive a wedge between them?

“Oh, Henry,” she breathed, clasping his hand beneath the blankets. “I… I wish to go home.”

He furrowed his brow, sitting a big higher against the pillows. “What do you mean, darling? You _are_ home.”

“No,” she whispered, squeezing the fingers she still held. Slowly, she pushed herself up beside him and met his gaze directly. “I will not be at peace until I know the fate of my father’s manor. I wish to go there and settle things.”

“And make sure the Baroness did not sell other servants to Monsieur Le Pieu in your place?” Henry mused with a smile. It quickly faded when he saw the seriousness that lurked in his wife’s eyes. “Of course, darling. We shall make it a priority to settle your estate in due course.”

Danielle bit her lip. _That’s not good enough_ , she thought to herself, but she thought better of pursuing the argument just then. Her husband was half-asleep, still lolling about in the alcohol-induced haze from their welcome home celebration. They had only just returned from their honeymoon that evening, and the King had thrown a feast in honor of them, and of the potential grandchild that he was certain was growing in her belly. 

It had all been a complete whirlwind – their courtship, their wedding, the start of their royal lives together – and through it all, she had thought of the home she’d left behind. She worried about Maurice and Paulette and Louise, still suffering at the hands of her dreadful stepmother. The Baroness had already sold Maurice once, and surely she would not hesitate to do it again. Who knows what sort of putrid bargain she would strike with Monsieur Le Pieu, once he reported her escape? He was no philanthropist – he’d expect _some_ sort of payment for the return her father’s possessions.

She swallowed hard, forcing back the bile that rose in her throat at the thought of that horrible little man. She’d stood up to him and demanded her own freedom, but he had stolen a little piece of her with his vile threats against her person.

“Danielle, you’re shaking,” Henry noted in a hushed voice, breaking into her brooding reverie as he wrapped his arms around her.

He pressed his forehead to hers, and she felt tears springing into her eyes. “This can’t wait, Henry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, but it can’t wait any longer.”

~*~

After assuring (and reassuring) him that she was merely rising to seek a glass of water, Danielle left her husband to sleep in their bed – _his_ bed, in his room in his wing of the royal palace – and walked out into the corridor with the lone candle from their bedside. She wrapped her arms around herself, slowly ambling down the hallway with no particular destination in mind.

She needed to be alone with her thoughts for a while. She needed to work it out for herself exactly how she would save her father’s estate, and the people who had loved and cared for her for the vast majority of her life.

She eventually sought refuge in the library. There was something quite comforting about being surrounded by so many books. She and Henry had visited the Franciscan monastery several times during their honeymoon, gathering ideas and sketching out plans for the university. She’d enjoyed the peace and solitude then, just as she did now, settling back on a chaise and letting her thoughts wander…

She became aware of another presence in the room sometime later, after her candle had burned out but before the first rays of dawn broke. She turned, her heart catching in her throat when she realized just who it was who had deigned to join her.

“My lady,” she choked out, pushing herself up from her seat so that she might dip into a curtsy – the customary greeting for the Queen.

“Danielle,” the Queen returned with a soft smile, holding out a staying hand. “Don’t trouble yourself on my account, my dear. We are in private quarters.” She settled beside her daughter-in-law on the chaise. “And please, call me Marie.”

“Yes, my lady,” Danielle murmured, sitting up a bit straighter. Her husband’s mother was a formidable woman, even in private – tall and lithe and regal, her red hair bound into a bun and covered by her bed cap. Even in her modest night clothes, she seemed unassailable. 

The Queen reached out, brushing an errant lock of hair from Danielle’s brow. “What troubles you, my child?” she asked gently.

“I wish to go home,” Danielle admitted mournfully, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. She glanced up at the Queen in shock, hurrying to amend her statement. “Not that I am not happy to be _here_ , my lady, because everyone has been so welcoming and wonderful to me, but – ”

“Please,” the Queen broke in, taking Danielle’s hand, “call me Marie. And I understand, my dear. Perhaps more than you realize.”

Danielle looked questioningly at her mother-in-law. “Do you?”

The Queen nodded, a small, sad smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “I know how difficult it is to leave everything you’ve ever known once you marry. Even if you love your husband – ”

“And I _do_ ,” Danielle cut in.

The Queen smiled. “I know.” She tucked a lock of hair behind Danielle’s ear. “I knew you were the one, from the first moment he mentioned you to me. The way his face lit up…” She shook her head fondly. “It was obvious that you were the only one for him. I couldn’t have picked a better partner for my son, and I’m certainly glad he chose you.”

“I feel incredibly lucky,” Danielle replied. “I never thought he’d come back, after the masque…”

“Yes, the masque,” the Queen muttered. “That horrid little affair.” She scowled. “Which, I’m afraid, left us with some loose ends to tidy up.”

Danielle furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand,” she confessed.

The Queen leveled her gaze on her daughter-in-law. “The Baroness must be punished for her fit of pique. She humiliated you, and Henry, and by extension – the entire royal family.”

Danielle swallowed hard, fighting back the awful memory of the night when her life, up to that point, had unraveled so horribly. “She was only doing what any ambitious mama would do,” she pointed out.

“Yes, well,” the Queen sniffed, “I, for one, do not care to be hunted for sport.”

A corner of Danielle’s mouth turned up in a smile.

“There, now,” the Queen said, patting Danielle’s hand, “that’s what I want to see! I must confess, I hate to see you so troubled, my dear.” She paused, carefully clasping Danielle’s hand in her own. “And this wish, to return to your home… Well, there might be a way.”

“Oh?” Danielle fought to quell the flare of hope in her chest.

The Queen smiled patiently. “The Baroness must be punished for her obstinacy.” She lifted her free hand, silencing Danielle’s protest. “She deserves nothing less than to lose her head for what she did. At the very least, she will be stripped of her noble title, and her and her daughters banished from your father’s manor. It will then revert to you by rights.” 

“Oh, Marie,” Danielle cried, “you cannot do that!”

The Queen looked surprised. “Surely you are not so kindhearted as this,” she remarked, “to allow them to stay there. Your claim on the estate is tenuous while the Baroness continues in residence.”

“No, no, it is not that,” Danielle sighed. “It’s just – Jacqueline has never been anything but kind to me, and she does not deserve to share her mother’s fate.”

“Jacqueline?” the Queen mused, searching her memory to place the name. “Ah, yes, the dark-haired girl.” She offered Danielle a knowing smile. “I would not worry about her, my dear.” 

When Danielle’s response was a questioning look, the Queen clarified: “I do believe Captain Laurent has taken quite a shine to her.”

Danielle smiled. “She deserves to be happy,” she agreed. “The Baroness is quite cruel to her. It was always obvious that she favored Marguerite, even when we were still girls.”

“You _are_ still a girl,” the Queen said fondly. She wrapped her arm around Danielle’s shoulders and pulled her into an impulsive little hug. “I’m so glad you’re my daughter now,” she whispered into her ear.

Danielle’s eyes grew wide as she turned to the Queen. “You think of me as your daughter?” she asked in a hushed voice.

The Queen nodded, brushing away an errant tear. “I always wanted a daughter, and now I have one,” she replied, squeezing her into another hug. “And I want you to be happy, child.”

“Thank you,” Danielle breathed. “You are too kind to me, Marie.”

The Queen pressed a motherly kiss against her temple. “I have the feeling, my dear,” she sighed, “that I could never be _too_ kind to you.”

~*~

Henry found them a few hours later, still sitting together in the library. He was amused as he happened upon them, still in their bed wrappers, chattering animatedly over morning tea.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” he greeted his wife, pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning to his mother. He eyed her warily. “Do I dare even ask what you’re discussing?”

“Why, _you_ , of course!” the Queen laughed, tugging her son down at her side. 

“Is that why my ears were burning?” he intoned sardonically, before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

The Queen ruffled his hair, and for a moment, it was so easy for Danielle to forget that they were royalty. She smiled at their genuine affection for each other, though it made her feel wistful all the same.

Henry turned to his wife, his expression sobering. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, Danielle,” he began, taking her hands into his. “About – wanting to go home.”

She nodded. “Your mother and I have come up with a strategy,” she informed him with a smile.

“Oh?” He glanced from his wife to his mother.

The Queen nodded. “Indeed,” she agreed. “We shall invite the Baroness and her daughters to court, to tie up our loose ends once and for all.”

Henry arched a brow, taking in his mother’s meaning, and turned back to his wife. “Are you sure about this?”

Danielle nodded again. “I need to know that everything there will be taken care of properly. Only then will _this_ place feel like home to me.” She smoothed her hand over her abdomen. “To _us_.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Then we shall take care of this today,” he vowed.

“So nice to have you on board, dear,” the Queen mused, patting her son’s shoulder as if to remind him of her presence in the room. “We shall call the Baroness and her daughters for an audience this afternoon.”

Danielle’s smile was bold as she returned her husband’s kiss with one of her own. “And then we shall never think of her again,” she promised.


End file.
